A Perfect Day
by B-witched83uk
Summary: Aragorn and Arwen spend the perfect day together, how can they make it even better?


Title: A Perfect Day

Author: B-witched83uk (bwitched83ukaol.com)

Rating: R

Summary: Pure fluff. Aragorn and Arwen have spent the perfect day together, how can they possibly make it better?

Disclaimer: I do not own _The Lord of the Rings._ The whole of Middle-earth belongs to Tolkien

Beta: The Last Evenstar, a great friend and a great editor.

Archive: fanfiction.net. Any others please ask.

Feedback: I would absolutely love some because yes I am a praise junky.

Additional info: This story was written for _The Telumendil Competition, Challenge 1_. It had to contain the following elements:

Candle

Broken vase

Éowyn's cooking

Sunset

Snow elf

Night shift

Lullaby

A Perfect Day

Aragorn smiled affectionately at the image below him. He stood on the balcony that came off of his and Arwen's private chambers, watching the sunset over Emyn Arnen. The sky was wisped with orange and deep crimson, reflecting off the feathered clouds. He sighed contentedly as his eyes, once again, moved to the sight on the ground.

The giggles of his two eldest children were quite possibly the greatest sounds he had ever heard. The snow had been falling all day. It had only just stopped, and Minas Tirith was coated in a blanket of pure white. Now it truly was the White City. The air was crisp yet not cold, and the distant sounds of the rest of the world but a mere echo as he watched his children play in the snow.

So at peace was he that he didn't even hear his wife come out to join him. Her cool hands slid over his arm as she came to stand beside him. Aragorn's smile widened even more so as he turned to face her, drawing his arms around her and pulling her close to his body.

"You will catch a chill, standing out here with no cloak on." Her voice was enchanting, like a whisper of icicles on a cool night breeze.

"I find I cannot tear myself away." He rested his forehead on hers and lightly trailed the backs of his fingers down her clothed arms.

Arwen sighed into the air as she began to gently rub her nose against his, smiling at how cold it was. She had just come back from checking on her youngest daughter, who had come down with food poisoning. Aragorn had been foolish enough to let her eat Éowyn's steamed lamb pudding and the poor little girl had been in bed since.

Arwen breathed in Aragorn's scent and leaned in, ever so slowly, to press a kiss to his chilled lips. She felt him grin against her mouth and noted how easy it was to make her love happy. After such hard times, after such turmoil and heartaches, all he needed was his wife and children to complete his life. Everything he had fought for, every foe he had smote, he had done it for this moment. He had done it for their future.

Aragorn caught his wife off guard as he quickly wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her body in hard against his. He captured her mouth in such a forceful kiss that she felt weak with instant need. Her hands slid up to his hair, where she grasped at the tresses, pushing his mouth harder onto hers. She knew that if he had not been holding her then she would have fallen down, the force with which he kissed her was so strong.

A high-pitched shriek from the grounds below drew the lovers apart. Aragorn and Arwen rushed over to the balcony to see what had happened, a worried look upon their faces.

They were instantly calmed when they saw their son Eldarion grab his sister's arm and wrestle her to the ground, giggling as she went. She rolled on top of her brother and pinned him down, rubbing a cold handful of snow into his face.

Arwen laughed at the sight of her children. It was so rare that she got to see them behaving like regular children, even if they were causing a scene.

Eldarion got up from the frozen ground, a little disorientated, and stumbled back into the snow Elf they had made. At least Aragorn assumed it was supposed to be an Elf, the large pointed ears were a dead giveaway. Eldarion's sister laughed as he tumbled into it, destroying all of their hard work.

The King turned from his children to look, once more, upon his lovely wife. Her delicious ears were tinged red from the cold, and her usual snow-white cheeks were flushed, but not from the cold. Arwen stepped closer to her husband and stroked her hand over his covered chest, a wanton look in her eye.

"Today has been perfect. I could not have planned a better day." He slid his fingers under her chin and tilted her head slightly. Bringing his mouth dangerously close to her sensitive ear, he whispered, "I can think of only one thing that would complete it." He felt the tremor go through her body and he pressed a single kiss to the tip of her ear.

Arwen stepped away from him and held out her hand for him to take. She led him back inside, away from the cold and into the warmth of their bedchamber.

Once inside, Arwen brought his hand up to her mouth, gently sucking on one of his fingers. His eyes closed shut and he groaned softly at the thought of what was to come.

Aragorn smiled at her and nodded towards their youngest daughter's room. "Éowyn feels just terrible about the whole thing."

Arwen smiled with pity. She hated seeing her child so ill, so miserable. She had spent most of the day asleep, the best thing for her. "I will go and say good night before we retire for the evening." She held out her hand for him to follow.

The little princess opened her eyes as her parents entered her room.

"How are you feeling, _sell bain ní n_?"

My beautiful daughter

Arwen walked over to the bed and sat down, running her hand over the child's damp brow.

"A little better." The child stifled a yawn and closed her eyes once more. "I wish I had not missed the snow." Arwen and Aragorn's hearts flipped at the disappointment on her face.

"It will snow again this winter, and when it does, I shall take the day off from my duties and spend it with you. How does that sound?" Aragorn grinned as his daughter broke into a smile.

"I would like that very much." She cringed slightly as a pain ran through her stomach. Looking at her mother, she held out her hand. "_Naneth,_ sing me a song."

Aragorn stood at the door, watching his wife and child. Never could he imagine a better life then the one he had.

"Very well, _melui sell ní n_. I shall sing you to sleep." She bent over her and kissed her brow, noting how much cooler it was now. The little girl snuggled down amongst the pillows, clutching her porcelain doll.

Arwen smiled. By the Valar, she loved her family. She stroked her hand through her damp hair and began to sooth her with her voice. Everything in the world seemed to disappear for the little girl. Her eyes closed and all she knew was the sound of her mother's voice.

"_mor can_

i arad si minuial

Anor anno othlonn an Ithil

i minuial.

__

ol si dar an lle

elenath gal i morn menel

aphad lamath nín si ned an sî dh

lasto an glir."

Darkness calls  
The day now dawned  
Sun has given way to moon  
Until the brake of morn  
  
Dreams now await you  
Stars alight the blackened sky  
Follow my voice now in to peace  
Listen to my lullaby

The child found sleep easily, and Aragorn smiled at how gentle his wife was, how pure and full of love.

When Arwen turned to look at him, she knew that he needed her. She stood from the bed and glided over to him, pressing a simple kiss to his cheek. "Let us return to our room."

"I will be back." Once in their chambers, Arwen moved behind a screen to change into her nightdress. "Do not start without me." She smiled coyly, before treating him to a look of complete wanting.

He resisted the urge to grab her and throw her on the bed, cursing and praising his body for reacting to her the way that it did.

He moved his hands to his tunic and undid the buttons one by one. He decided to leave the silk shirt until Arwen returned. It was one of her favourite things, watching him undress.

He walked over to the bed and pulled down the top cover, disturbing the pillows at the same time. Underneath one of the pillows was his nightshift, a thin cotton garment. Aragorn smiled to himself as he tossed it to the corner of the room. Every morning, when their bed was made, it was placed neatly under the pillows, and every night before he retired Aragorn would throw it to one side. He preferred to sleep naked, as natural and free as the day he was born.

His breath hitched in his throat as he saw Arwen come from behind the screen. Her night dress was emerald green silk, and it hugged to her very womanly body. Their eyes locked for a moment, a knowledge of the pleasure they could give one another passing between them.

Arwen broke eye contact to walk over to the bedside table. The day was dying and the sky was growing dark. Two large cream-coloured candles sat waiting for her. She leant over and whispered to them, her breath like fire. "_im can am i balan ned i naur_."_  
_I call upon the power of the flame

Instantly, both the wicks caught alight with the most brilliant blue fire Aragorn had ever seen. She smiled at him, amazed that after all these years he was still so easy to impress.

His eyes suddenly changed and a saddened look overtook his ruggedly handsome face. "You miss the way of the Elves very much, don't you." It wasn't a question.

Arwen smiled at him and nodded slowly. She was unbelievably happy with her life here in Minas Tirith, with Aragorn and the children, but she could not deny how loudly her old life sung to her. "This place is my home now, you are my home." She walked over to him and took his hand, bringing it to rest over her heart. "And besides, I have many things here that I brought from Rivendell, many things to remind me of my old life."

Aragorn looked sheepishly down at the ground, wincing slightly as he readied himself to confess to his wife. "Exactly. Many things. You are hardly likely to miss a simple vase, now, are you?" He brought his eyes up to meet hers, and instantly wished that he hadn't.

"That depends on which vase you speak of. It was not the one from _Ada's_ study?" She looked on worried, for he had loved that vase and had given it to her as something to remember him by.

"I told him not to play with his wooden swords inside. I have told him a thousand times. Do not be too hard on him, for he feels bad enough." Aragorn stroked his fingers over his wife's check and leant to kiss the top of her head.

"We will have to speak to him again, when we tell him not to something, he should do as we say." She looked at Aragorn, who was nodding in agreement. "We will talk to Eldarion in the morning."

Aragorn looked up at her with a frown. "Eldarion? I was talking about Faramir."  
Arwen shook her head in disbelief. "I fear you two will never grow up."

Aragorn grinned at her, finding it all rather funny, and clasped her wrists in his hands, pulling her towards him. He held her close to him and pushed his hard body against her.

All thoughts of the broken vase left Arwen's mind as his fingertips brushed over her arms, making her ache with the need of him. Her hands slid over his chest and began to part his shirt. The skin underneath was both soft and hard like silk spread over rock.

To him this was torture, to feel her touch him, even in such small ways. The knowledge of what was to come pounded through his entire body. He closed his eyes tightly as her gentle fingers slid down to his waist line, he opened his eyes long enough to see the look of pure want in his wife's eyes. Leaning into her, he stole her breath with a fiery kiss that made her cling to him.

Arwen began to feel the low-down burn of lust, and she shuddered from it, sliding one hand up into his hair, whilst the other slid inside his breeches. He groaned into her mouth and she smiled against his lips, relishing the knowledge that she could so easily please her husband.

Her hand began to move, tempting him to fully awaken. When Aragorn's mouth moved to the tip of her ear, Arwen smiled, knowing this would be wonderful and yet at the same time unbearable. He bit softly on the delicate tip, before circling it with his warm tongue. Her hands moved to his buttocks and she pulled him into her, needing him in an almost painful way. His mouth did not move, it continued to work her in to a fevered frenzy.

"I love you, Undómiel, with all that I am," he whispered softly into her ear.

Arwen bit her lip as the emotions of loving him became too much. The ache that ran through her body had now settled at her heart, and she knew that the only way to ease that pain was to be as close to him as possible. She ran her hands up his back and into his hair, pulling his head back onto her mouth. He felt her body tremble against his as their tongues tempted and teased one another.

"Make love to me," she whispered, unable to go another second without feeling him inside of her. They undressed in silence, the whole time watching each other. Then, in one fluid motion, he wrapped his arms around her back and picked her up, holding her close to his heated body.

Aragorn laid his wife gently onto their marital bed. He came to lie beside her, turning her to face him. He made sure she was watching his hands as they roamed freely over her body. First he stroked the backs of his fingers over her aching breasts, then up over her tipped ear. Her eyes never left his as his skilled hands brought his wife complete pleasure. Arwen rolled over onto her back and held out her arms, as an invitation for him to come to her. Aragorn wasted no time in finding comfort in her arms, and as his hand moved down, he groaned at how ready she was for him, she always was.

The King and Queen of Gondor held on to one another, making love. Their bodies glistened with sweat as they moved as one, not able to get close enough, trembling in each other's arms. As the night darkened their room, and the candles burnt out, they continued to move together, bringing each other both complete torment and bliss. They loved each other in the most beautiful, most physical of ways, until they were both completely sated.

There in each other's arms, sleep took them. Their spent bodies entwined, their mouths still loosely joined, their hearts beating frantically. They rested in peace in the knowledge that tomorrow would bring much the same, and every day after that. They had earned their happiness in more ways then imaginable.

To love wholly is to live wholly, for what is life without love. There is no braver action then to act on love, to fight for that which you love and be prepared to lose yourself completely. If this is truly the case then there have never been two people braver then Aragorn and Arwen, for they are truly heroes in the world of love.

The End


End file.
